


You can stay at mine

by Crowley_Kitten



Series: First times [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bodyswap, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Metaphysical Sex, Missing Scene, Other, Quote: You can stay at my place (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: after the nonpocalypse, Crowley takes Aziraphale back to his flat. Aziraphale ponders Agnes Nutters last prophesy.they realise this might be the only night they have together.choose your faces wisely.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: First times [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974409
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	You can stay at mine

Aziraphale's head nodded against Crowley's shoulder. He could feel the little damp patch where those tempting pink lips hung softly open, the creases around his eyes and jaw soft with sleep. Crowley could count on less than the fingers of one hand the times he had seen the angel asleep. Still, it had been an exhausting day. He knew if he succumbed himself, he WOULD wake up in time to get off at Mayfair. But the sight of those soft white gold curls against the smoke charred scent of his black lapels was something he didn’t want to miss a second of, even though sleep demanded his attention sooner rather than later. Those soft fingers that interlaced his gripping tighter each time the disturbance of his sleep made his eyelids tighten with a whimper. Aziraphale had not long been discorporated. Crowley hoped it hadn’t been too painful thank... someone for Adam for returning him to his exquisitely lovely corporation. That soft warmth against him. Utterly vulnerable and soft.    
  
The bus passed through Soho, and Crowley felt a chill in his heart, glad the angel was utterly lost to sleep. But... the street was quiet. No great lakes of ash blackened hosewater. No charred scent. Crowley's mouth hung open as the bus passed the frontage of a shop he thought was gone. It looked utterly unharmed. Aziraphale clung to him as they passed the shop as if he knew. A small smile of contentment trailing the corner of that damned cherubic pout.    
  
Soon the bus arrived at Mayfair, pulling up outside the austere luxury apartment block. Crowley gently shook Aziraphale awake, loving the blue-grey bleariness in his sleep softened eyes.    
  
“Come on angel. We're here now.” Aziraphale moaned softly as Crowley helped him to his feet, supporting him as they made their way to the building entrance. Crowley didn’t dare to glance over at his parking space. It was too much to hope for. But if the shop was there....   
  
The night doorman buzzed them in, and Crowley took the exhausted angel to the lifts, punching in his penthouse floor. Aziraphale was still tired. Still mumbling about “choosing faces” and “playing with fire.” there was a tight fear In Crowleys lower gut, knowing their hours were numbered. Knowing that maybe all they had was this night. Weighing up whether it was better used trying to solve the prophecy, or pouring his heart out to his angel, flaying himself bare and accepting oblivion off the back of one last perfect, blissful moment with the love of his life. But then... but then Aziraphale would be gone. A world without Crowley, well, he could bear that. He wouldn’t be there to worry about it.    
but a world without that dear, soft, precious angel, the best of them, was unthinkable. He could face oblivion if he could buy Aziraphale's safety.    
  
When the lift doors opened, he found his damaged front door and fixed it with a minor miracle. Aziraphale still seemed kind of numb. Crowley firmly shut the door to the study, his nose curling at the harsh bitter tang of liquified Duke of Hell. He'd deal with the mess later. If there was a later. No point facing it if he never lived to go back into that room. He didn’t want to waste a moment he had left. He stared warily at the bucket where it had rolled into the hallway.    
  
Holy Water. Crowley felt the knot of fear tightening. It was bound to be, wasn’t it? He remembered the screams with a wince. Vowed that however much it hurt, he would think only of his Angel. Picture his face in his final moments. He could withstand anything for his Angel. 

Aziraphale perched on the uncomfortable sofa, looking utterly out of place against the modern. Stylish, minimalism. Aziraphale didn’t belong here. Just like he didn’t belong in the cold, white halls of heaven. He belonged in cosy, welcoming places, with blankets, and dust, and cups of tea, and old books. Crowley took two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey to the coffee table, pouring a generous portion into each. Aziraphale was anxiously wringing the worn edge of his waistcoat in his nimble fingers. Muttering over and over.    
  
“Choose your faces wisely.... what faces....? What faces could keep us safe? They know our true forms...playing with fire.... hellfire? Oh, surely they wouldn’t...” He said softly, knowing perfectly well that they would. He laughed bitterly.    
  
“Shame we can’t just take each other's places, eh? I bet you could do with a nice holy water bath after the day we’ve had.” Aziraphale laughed a little, and the laugh died in his throat. His eyes widening, suddenly becoming very VERY awake.    
  
“My dear boy! That's IT!”    
  
“What’s it? I stroll into heaven, you stroll into hell, and somehow no one notices that we’ve swapped places? Come off it!”    
  
“What if we...um....didn’t look like ourselves? What if we.... choose our faces wisely?” Crowley felt a sly smirk beginning at the corner of his mouth. “Until today, no Angel even thought to possess someone. Our corporations are essentially human. Humans are not harmed by Holy Water. Oh... but... the hellfire...would that harm you if you were in my corporation...”   
  
“Hellfire only burns that which is holy....I’m still.... not sure what you are proposing. How would I be in your corporation?”   
  
“Have you ever possessed anyone, Crowley?”    
  
“Nope. You've definitely out demoned me.”   
  
“I don’t KNOW that it would work.... but if your soul is in my body, and mine in yours, the bodies are human, it’s what’s IN them that puts them in danger from the likely means of our.... execution....do you... think we could try?”   
  
“It would really fuck with their heads if we survived.” Crowley mused, the little lines around his eyes creasing with a smile. “I’m still not sure of the mechanics of it.”    
  
“Well, I’m no expert, but I figured it out. But then, I wasn’t IN a body...I think... if we could LEAVE our own bodies somehow, and...slide into each others.... somehow...me into your body, you into mine.”   
  
“Will...the corporations be okay. With no one there?”    
  
“Well, humans survive leaving their bodies during near-death experiences and astral travel...I think the lower brain takes care of it unless the bond is truly severed. It...might not work...but...I think it’s the only chance we’ve got.”   
  
“Aziraphale!” His voice was fearful and needy and full of longing. “If... if it might not work...I...I need to tell you.....I.....I.....”    
  
“I know you do, dear.” He shuffled closer to Crowley, so their thighs pressed together, as they did on the bus. “I’ve known for SO long. I’m sorry I kept pushing you away. I wanted you...oh how I wanted to tell you how I felt. But I didn’t want to put you in danger. I DO love you Crowley. And I know you love me. You never stopped showing me how you loved me, over and over again. It was everything I could do not to fall into your arms and never let you go” With a soft whimper, Crowley let the angel pull him against his chest, kissing him fiercely. Crowley promptly forgot what bones were, becoming limp and pliable, before fighting back the front of his brain and kissing back, letting his hands wander across the heavy material of Aziraphales clothing, feeling the soft strength of the body beneath.   
  
“We might only have tonight” Crowley croaked. “I couldn’t die without telling you I love you. When ...the fire, and I searched for your aura, and it was.... it was NOWHERE. It was like you had never existed and I...” There were tears in his eyes.    
  
“IF we only have tonight....which is still a very real possibility... would you... I don’t know if you love me in THAT way, but... would you take me to your bed?” Aziraphale's eyes were SO naked. So open. His soul laid bare. “If you...like that sort of thing... That is. If not, I should like to hold you close all the same.”   
  
“You... you do that?” Aziraphale's laugh was musical.    
  
“My darling, of COURSE. Can you imagine? Six thousand years and never experiencing all of the intimate pleasures these wonderful human bodies have to offer? You?”   
  
“Um... I’ve um.... dabbled.” Blushing that his experiences were limited to work assignments. Crowley mumbled through the flare of envy that simmered in his veins for all of the humans that had touched his angel. Kissed his angel. Made love to his angel. He was embarrassed at his envy, knowing many were probably long dead and gone. And still, he wanted to demand who. Their names, their stories, why had he chosen them over him.    
  
“Where’s the bedroom dear? I think we should take this somewhere more comfortable than this damned awful sofa. Please tell me you don’t sleep on a bloody futon?” Crowley was insulted.    
  
“Angel, sleep is a hobby of mine.” Crowley objected, immediately regretting all of the time he had slept when he could have been spending his time with the Principality. “Of course, I don’t have a futon. Might as well sleep on the ceiling. Better off sleeping on the ceiling. I have a Kingsize heavy sprung memory foam topped mattress, and it’s wonderful. Egyptian cotton sheets. Underfloor heating....”   
  
“Sorry, dear. Fair assumption based on the comfort of this monstrosity.” Crowley rose, gradually feeling more confident, downing his tumbler and helping Aziraphale to his feet. His serpentine eyes were dark with desire. His sclera blown wide; his pupils dilated almost round. My goodness, he was SO beautiful. So inhuman. And oh, how Aziraphale ACHED for him. Aziraphale let himself be led to the ambiently lit room, to the plush bed. Aziraphale stepped into the V of Crowley's seated knees, pulling his chin up into a bruising kiss, devouring Crowley'sdesperate whimper of longing. Aziraphale pulled back. “do you? Do you DESIRE me as well as love me?” Crowley answered with roaming hands and hitching breath.    
  
“Angel, you have no idea....” Aziraphale rolled his hips, feeling the hardness in those tight tight trousers.   


“Oh, I think I do...” Aziraphale reached down, palming at the swell of the denim. Smiling as Crowley arched up to meet his touch. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted you...” He leaned forwards into another kiss. Starting softly, tentatively until Crowley fell back to the bed, pulling him down with him. Aziraphale seemed suddenly shy.   
  
“What? What is it? We don’t have to. I thought you said you’d done this a lot?”    
  
“But this is YOU. I’ve always wanted it to be you...” Crowley kissed his eyelids softly, caressing his jaw until he became receptive again to his kisses. With a soft sigh of happiness, he began carefully unfastening the Angels far too many clothes. He felt soft, shaking hands pushing back his own jacket, tugging his clothes away. As the Angel's layers fell away, Crowley trailed his kisses from lips to the soft line of his jaw, and the wonderful scent of the skin in the crook of his neck. Tongue becoming long and serpentine, flickering to taste the scent there all the better. Aziraphale tugged his shirt off over his shoulders and stared appreciatively at Crowley's long, lean torso. All sloping lines and sharp angles. Lithe and sinewy. So different from his own soft, cosy body. It was hard not to feel inadequate, but Crowley's roaming fingertips were hungry. Reverential, as they explored and tugged at him. They were kissing again. Aziraphale felt lightheaded, and like the edges between them were fuzzy. Like there was no line between where Angel ended and Demon began. He began to feel a crumb of hope that this plan would work. But whether it worked or didn’t, they would have THIS. This moment. He pushed his fear aside, focusing on the strange magnetic pull where they touched. It might work it might work it might work.    
  
Crowley panted roughly as Aziraphale tugged his tight jeans away, freeing his achingly hard cock. The angel's soft thumbs caressing the hollows of his pelvis, where they sloped away towards his fierce erection. Aziraphale's eyes were thoughtful and soft.    
  
“Beautiful,” he whispered. “I always knew you would be so beautiful.”    
  
“You’re kidding, right. You're the one that is beautiful. Beautiful enough to catch the eye of a serpent. The sight of you, up on that wall, you seemed to glow. And I was gone. Just like that.”   
  
“But I’m.... plump...”   
  
“Hell yeah, you are. Gorgeously soft and lovely.” Aziraphale blushed. “Don’t let anyone tell you that this body is anything but perfect. I’ve been lusting after it for centuries, you daft old thing.” As if proving his point, his lips trailed slowly down over the soft, white gold curls of his chest with a sigh. “Demons don’t deserve to get what their hearts truly desire...”    
  
“You were never any good at being a demon, though. You're ….too....nice...” He whispered with a wicked smile as Crowley hissed in response. “And I was never any good at being an Angel...too many rules....” Aziraphale moaned, low in his chest when Crowley's long fingers traced down his torso. Those thin lips on his, swallowing down his needy whimpers. “Oh, love...I want you...I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you...”    
  
“Angel....” Crowley sighed. “I NEED you, you bloody idiot... it should never have taken the damn near end of the world to tell you...”    
  
“There was too much at stake...” Aziraphale's kisses trailed along Crowley's angular throat and collarbones, nuzzling into the shadowy hollows and breathing him in, feeling a thrill as he watched dark scales ripple beneath his fingertips, rippling in and out of the material plane. Aziraphale released his wings for the second time that day, with a content sigh. The room filling with the glowing light of him as he let his boundaries blur. With a heavy, muffled *THWUMP* night dark feathers filled his vision, he gently ran his fingertips across the glossy ink dark plumage reverentially. “Oh, Crowley...” he kissed his way slowly, tantalisingly, down the lean, whippety ribcage, to where his cock stood proud in wine-dark curls on his pale, narrow hips. “Oh you ARE a masterpiece...my beloved..” Crowley gasped as Aziraphale tugged a cushion beneath his hips, gently taking his straining cock in hand, gently squeezing the base as the fingers of his other hand roamed lower, seeking between his buttocks, a searing, holy heat along the crease of him. He felt the slickness of the fingers as they gently caressed his opening, before, slowly and gently, easing inside.    
  
Crowley hissed, his back arching, as he tried to fuck himself on Aziraphale's gently probing finger. His Angel was inside him. Galaxies exploded behind his eyes, golden lights rippled across his bone ridged skin. Aziraphale grinned wickedly.    
  
“See.... we can do this..... It can work....” For a brief moment, the room lit up with hundreds of stormy blue-grey eyes, spinning in golden wheels of heavenly light. And the gold seeped into the eyes, and the pupils became slits in firey amber irises, and scales fluttered from Crowley'sgoosebumped skin to Aziraphale's, and back again like a tide.    
  
“What.... what’s happening....”    
  
“We are joining.... we are merging......” Aziraphale gasped between hungry kisses. “oh that we ever had two bodies, not just one...”, Crowley felt the press of Aziraphale's large, thick, and oh so human cock stroking between his buttocks before pressing forwards. Slowly filling him. Their bodies briefly went utterly limp, eyelids at half-mast as they panted, breathing each others spent breaths. Aziraphale began to thrust slowly, hitting his prostate just right. The feeling was simultaneously the most deliciously human and overwhelmingly ethereal he could remember. The ghost of Aziraphale's moans on his kissed raw lips. The sounds he had on;y dared imagine him making for HIM, and not for some delicacy in some high-end restaurant tearing from his heavy, human chest. Aziraphale's soft hand on Crowleys long, curved, beautiful cock. Crowley was very proud of it. He had always hoped one day to share it with his Angel. His Angel breathing hot and low in his ear, whispering soft prayers of ecstatic love to him. His Angel, his wings shimmering pale golden white with their own light, a canopy over them both. The snakestrike coil of his ferocious climax tightening in his belly. So close now. Time stretched endlessly and raced ahead. But what was time? Time could be stopped and held. And he longed for his release while also wishing for this to never end. Their two bodies, perfectly fitted to each other.    
  
Aziraphale gasped, his eyes wide, startled and surprised and shocked, swallowing around words that wouldn’t form. Crowley felt the fierce heat roaring through his body where they joined, sweeping everything away. Whiting out his thoughts, spilling hot and needy and desperate on his hollow belly, as the Angel gently worked him through the aftershocks. His skin rippling golden like the sun, and black like the serpents scales, over and over until his bones went limp, and the weight on Crowley's chest, the blinding white feathers closing around them both.    
  
Aziraphale rolled slowly onto his back, his fingers still interlocked with the Angels. His own plumage tatty and sweat ruffled. Aziraphale rolled over, placing his thick hand over the demons skittering heart. With a satisfied smile, knowing the bond was closer than ever, he let his awareness flow down his arm and into Crowley, feeling the energy draw back like a tide, watching the white lights skitter over Crowley's bare flesh, and the iridescent scales rolling back over his own.    
  
The moment seemed strange and utterly alien. Crowley had never felt a sensation like it. He opened his eyes, to the angel leaning over him, grinning triumphantly.    
  
Up into golden, slit pupilled eyes, and a soft soft smile that didn’t belong on those thin lips. He ran his fingers back through fluffy, cloud-soft curls, felt the uptilted nose, the soft jaw. Held up perfectly manicured soft hands in front of his face. He looked again at the angel. All slender lines and harsh angles. The angel put his pure white wings away, and at that moment Crowley felt deeply unsettled, seeing that familiar expression on... on his own face.    
  
  
“So.....” the voice sounded odd. Those perfectly enunciated syllables in his own vocal cords. “Do you think.... are we ready to play with fire?


End file.
